No. No—

You didn't mean for this to happen.

Deep red had stained your entire being from your hands and onto the rest of your torso, fresh and running along the concrete floor as you stood there by the corpse of your friend; her blonde locks laid there, stained by the same shade of red, multiple stab wounds had littered across her body — deliberately making sure that they'd hit every important organ to have her die bleeding.

The two of you had a run-in with the infamous "Ghostface" serial killer on the phone, and at first, it was unbelievable — what idiot would even attempt to scare you and Jackie on such a weak thing like that? And then it happened, the banging on the locked doors, frightful screams from both of you not being able to ascertain who was behind this stupid prank.

It begun to dawn on you, however, that this wasn't just a prank. It is the real deal.

"Jackie— no.. no.. you can't die—" Your whispered sobs came unheard by the blonde in your arms, it was futile. Jackie Taylor has been murdered, you were attacked. And now the cops were all over your place while the medics tried to pull you away from the bloodied mess that is your friend.

You feel someone else pull you from the stagnant stare that you had between Jackie's lifeless eyes and yours, a warm, almost comforting presence behind you.

"Hey.. I got your call, I'm so sorry that I couldn't come sooner." Lottie whispers to you, quiet as ever — you wanted to cry, you wanted to break something. But all you ever felt that moment was that you needed to feel safe. "Are you okay?"

Lottie looks ahead of the scene in front of her, the medics rushing in to see if they can save Jackie. But she knows that they can't, because she's made sure to stab everything that would leave her to have a chance of surviving.